Reading The Important Moments
by Lord Periwinkle
Summary: Dolores Jane Umbridge has a plan, a plan to make everyone see that Harry Potter is a lying, attention-seeking brat, and get him locked up with the dementors. And, in her mind, her plans never fail. But, when secrets start to come out, who will really end up in Azkaban? **Set somewhere in the chapter Occlumency** I don't own Harry Potter. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

_ "All students should report to the Great Hall immediately for an important announcement." _A horribly sweet, girly voice was echoing through the many hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As the students walked through the huge double doors of the Hall, their eyes widened almost comically. The five long tables that usually adorned the Great Hall had vanished, replaced with hundreds of very large, very comfortable purple cushions. Small tables were littered around the Hall and though it was lit merrily, Harry had a bad feeling about the sudden redecoration. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that Fudge, Percy Weasley, and the witch with the monocle from his hearing, Amelia Bones, were chatting with Professor Umbridge at the front of the Great Hall.  
When the last student entered the Hall, the oak doors swung shut and the lock clicked as the doors were locked. The students and staff of Hogwarts looked at Umbridge expectantly and she grinned, her resemblance to a toad becoming more pronounced. "I have called you all here today to read the highlights of the years of a certain troublesome student, which of course, is Mr. Potter."  
Harry gaped at her, very aware of everyone in the Great Hall staring at him. The his expression of surprise turned into one of defiance. "Fine."  
The toad looked startled. She hadn't expected him to agree!  
"Fine. Read them. But how do you know that everything in the books is true?"  
"That is for me to know and you to find out, Potter." Fudge had spoken up, glaring at Harry. "But I can tell you that everything in these books is absolutely, 100% true!"  
Harry looked satisfied. "Ok, but I can't tell you that I won't say 'I told you so' when you realize that I'm _not_ a liar."  
Fudge glared all the harder, this time Percy and Umbridge joining, and handed Umbridge the first book.  
She looked down at the cover and read out "_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone._"

Ok, for some reason my old version of this story was deleted. :( So here it is again! :)

And now there's a problem uploading this chapter... grrr...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm only gonna do this once: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form, nor do I claim to. Anything in **bold** is from J.K. Rowling's book series.

"This chapter is called _The Sorting Hat._"

Whispers broke out over the Hall. They were going to hear Harry Potter's _Sorting!_

**The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.**

"And yet you do it anyways."

"Would you rather the school be blown up or something equally disastrous?"

"Hmph."

**"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could fit the whole of the Dursley's house in it.**

"Who are the Dursleys?" asked a rather curious Hufflepuff.

Harry grimaced almost unnoticeably. "I live with them."

T**he stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. "Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor,**

The Gryffindors cheered.

**Hufflepuff,**

The Hufflepuffs clapped and cheered.

**Ravenclaw,**

The Ravenclaws stomped their feet and whooped to show their approval.

**and Slytherin.**

The Slytherins clapped quietly. They were much too mature to act like the other houses. Fred rolled his eyes, muttering "Killjoys," under his breath.

**Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in front of the whole school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear,**

"How the bloody hell did that happen?" asked Ron.

"I can't remember," Neville said truthfully.

**and on Ron's smudged nose.**

Harry snorted, only to be hit on the back of the head by Ron, whom he glared at, before they burst into laughter.

**Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.**

"That's a lost cause right there, mate."

"I know, Ron, it's a nervous habit."

"**I shall return when we are ready for you." said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. Harry swallowed. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet - what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much, except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry tried very hard not to listen to her.**

"As usual," sighed Hermione.

Harry and Ron snickered quietly, until she wacked them on the heads, earning her twin cries of "OW!"

People stared. Was this how the Golden Trio acted? Like regular teenagers?

**He'd never been more nervous, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow managed to turn his teacher's wig blue.**

"How did they know it was you?" Ginny asked.

"I was the only one left in the room."

"Oh."

**He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.**

"Dramatic much?" snorted Seamus. Ron glared at him, but Harry said "Yes," then smirked when he saw Seamus' confused expression.

**Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind him screamed. "What the -?" He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years.**

Katie sighed. "They do that every year."

**They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are all of you doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered. "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"**

Ron snorted. "Noooooo, there's just a group of random people sneaking into Hogwarts."

"That's rude Ronald," Hermione said, exasperated.

He rolled his eyes at her, but she didn't see as she had turned back to the book.

**A few people nodded mutely. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know." "Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line,"**

"It was more of a crowd." said Dean.

P**rofessor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Harry had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating above four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring up at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there amongst the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in ****_Hogwarts, A History_****." It was hard to believe there was a ceiling at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens. Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house. ****_Maybe they had to try to get a rabbit out of it,_**** Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing**

"Why would you have to pull a rabbit out of the hat?" asked the twins, looking at Harry like he had gone insane.

"It's a muggle trick."

_Stupid muggles,_ sneered Malfoy mentally.

**- noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:**

No one was going to ask the toad to sing, their ears were already hurting because of her voice.

**_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat then me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can top them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a thinking cap!"_**

** The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables then became quite still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." ** Harry's eyes widened. "Do you have any Seer blood in your family?" he whispered to Ron, whose eyes had also widened in surprise.

"Erm, no, actually."

"Huh."

**Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking quite a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy that would have been the one for him. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause - "HUFFLEPUFF!" ** Hannah's friends clapped and cheered. **shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her. "Bones, Susan!" "HUFFLEPUFF!"**

Susan's friends clapped for her as she smiled at them.

**shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. "Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!"**

Terry blushed as his friends clapped and whooped.

**The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.**

**"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. "Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.**

Hermione glared at Harry and smacked him on the back of the head.

** "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself." There weren't many people left now."Moon"…"Nott"…,"Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last – "Potter, Harry!" As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. "****_Potter_****, did she say?" "****_The _****Harry Potter?" The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited. Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?" Harry** **gripped the edges of the stool and thought****_, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. _****"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!"**

Whispering broke out over the Hall again. _The Harry Potter_, a Slytherin?

"Harry?"

Harry started, looking up from his lap, to see Ron and Hermione smiling at him. He knew that they didn't care that he was almost a Slytherin, and they knew he knew that. But, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a bead of doubt. _What if they were lying?_

** Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.**

The Trio snorted and received some very weird looks that they pointedly ignored.

** And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago. Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!"He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. "Is he - a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?" Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry,**

Umbridge was cut off when an angry noise escaped Hermione. Many people stared at Harry and Madame Pomfery wanted to drag him off to the Hospital Wing, but she managed to restrain herself.

Amelia's eyes narrowed.

** but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked.**

"We need to redefine that definition of yours, Mr. Potter," said Madame Pomfery and Professor McGonagall together.

**Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick.**

"Horrible child," scoffed many females.

**Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious. "That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak, ****"Can't you -?"**

"Aww, Harry, you used to be so innocent and sweet!" cooed many girls, including Hermione. Harry looked at her like she had betrayed him, causing some to laugh.

"Yeah, so what happened?" smirked Ron, causing even more the laughter.

"The same thing that happened to you." This time it took five minutes for everyone to stop laughing.

**"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. ****"I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower. "I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!" "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.**

"It was," said Katie. "He has the same conversation every year."

**"Like ****_this,_****" he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row!" The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost." Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements. "How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest. "I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding... As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families. "I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." The others laughed. ****"What about you, Neville?" said Ron. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I ****_do _****hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult-"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing-").**

Many people rolled their eyes. Typical Hermione.

** Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. **"**N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come.**

People stared at Harry, who was glaring at the table. What did that mean?

**Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.**

Ron snorted. "That's an understatement, mate."

**"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy. "Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."**

The Weasleys (bar Percy), all glared. Being a Prefect didn't make you entitled to classified information.

**"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed: **

**_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _**

**_Teach us something please, _**

**_Whether we be old and bald _**

**_Or young with scabby knees, _**

**_Our heads could do with filling _**

**_With some interesting stuff, _**

**_For now they're bare and full of air, _**

**_Dead flies and bits of fluff, _**

**_So teach us things worth knowing, _**

**_Bring back what we've forgot, _**

**_Just do your best, we'll do the rest, _**

**_And learn until our brains all rot."_**

The process was repeated while Umbridge glared at them all.

** Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.**

As they did now.

** Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself." A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked. "Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed. "You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said. Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.**

Some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sighed. It sounded beautiful. The Slytherins couldn't care less. 'Cause, you know, they're slimy gits.

**Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. "Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers!"**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glared at the book, but no one noticed.

**He's chewing my sheets." Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once. Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it -then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.**

Again, Harry was the subject to the Hall's stares. "What?" he asked.

"Your dreams are weird," said Seamus rather bluntly.

Harry, momentarily forgetting that Seamus thought he was a lying lunatic, looked at him with something close to longing. "That one's barley creepy, compared to most of mine."

Umbridge huffed and read the last line of the chapter.

** He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.**

She passed the book to Fudge, who took it and read with a slight smirk, "Halloween."


	3. Chapter 3

** Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. **

Professor McGonagall looked at the two suspiciously, but they just grinned cheekily at her as Hermione rolled her eyes beside them.

**Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. **

"THREE-HEADED DOG!?" yelped most of the students. Fudge glared at Dumbledore. "Aha! Keeping dangerous beasts in the castle! We'll just see about this!" "Cornelius," interjected Dumbledore, "are you not the one who approved of this to protect the Stone?" Cornelius looked sour, and Umbridge glared at the bespeckled old wizard. Amelia remained impassive, while Percy looked angry.

**In the meantime, Harry filled Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection. "It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron. **

"Or both," said Ginny.

**"Or both," said Harry. **

"Aw, Ickle Harrykins and Gin-Gin think alike!" cooed the twins. (fake cooing, mind you)

**But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Harry ripped the letter open first, which was lucky, because it said: DO NOT OPEN THIS PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everyone knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session. Professor McGonagall. **

Umbridge glared at McGonagall. "Favoritism. I will not stand for it!" "I used money from Potter's own vault, Delores." McGonagall said coldly. "And is it not you who favors the Slytherins, along with Professor Snape?" she added. Umbridge's toad-like cheeks flushed and Snape glared. Fudge continued reading.

**Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read. "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even ****_touched_**** one." **

"Of course you haven't, Weasley," drawled Malfoy. Ron didn't dignify this with an answer, for once.

**They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it. "That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." Ron couldn't resist. "It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig." Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked. "Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly. "Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?" "A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added. Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.**

Three fourths of the Great Hall was laughing. "Nice, one, Harry," panted Fred as George roared with laughter next to him.

"**Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team…" "So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand. "I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry. "Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good." Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. **

"Sorry Hermione," said Harry and Ron in unison. Hermione grinned at them.

** Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last. "Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top. **

The Quidditch nuts sighed dreamily, and Harry smiled at the mention of his old broom.

** As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. Held never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high. "Hey, Potter, come down!" Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him. "Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant… you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week." He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls. "Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers." "Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball. "This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?" "The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So — that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?" "What's basketball?" said Wood curiously. "Never mind," said Harry quickly. "Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper — I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring." "Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. "I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this." He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat. "I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers." He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box. "Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers. At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air — it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground. **

"Not bad, Harry." said the twins.

** "See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team — the Weasley twins are ours — it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So — think you've got all that?" "Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off. "Very good," said Wood. "Er — have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand. "Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers —" "—unless they crack my head open." "Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers — I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."**

"Aw, thanks Oliver!" chirped George as Fred whipped away an imaginary tear. Oh, how they missed Quidditch.

** Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings. "****_This_****," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages — I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. "Well, that's it any questions?" Harry shook his head. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem. "We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these." He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, **

"Nice."

** and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on. "That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons." Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). **

"Sorry Neville," Harry apologized quickly, but Neville just laughed. "It's true."

** Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived. "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest." **

"We tried it. It didn't work." pouted Lee Jordan.

** It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat. Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. "You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." "You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled. **

"Oooh, never say that to Hermione."

** Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!" Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."**

Hermione frowned, and Ron quickly apologized. "It's alright," she whispered. "How did you three become friends? It sounds like you hate each other." said a Ravenclaw third year. He was ignored.

** Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears. "I think she heard you." "So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends." Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds. **

Hermione snorted. "Thanks, guys."

"No problem."

** A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.**

The fourth years and below looked alarmed.

** There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" Percy was in his element.**

"Of course he was," muttered Ginny, glaring at Percy, whose ears reddened.

** "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!" "How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs. "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."**

"Nah, not his style."

** They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm."I've just thought — Hermione." "What about her?" "She doesn't know about the troll." Ron bit his lip. "Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us." Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. **"**Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view."What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?" "Search me."**

Students glanced apprehensively at the Potions Master.

** Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps. "He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand. **"**Can you smell something?" Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.**

Many girls gagged.

** And then they heard it — a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed — at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room. "The keys in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in." **"**Good idea," said Ron nervously. They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it. "Yes!" Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop — a high, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up. "Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron. "It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped. "Hermione!" they said together.**

Some people glanced at Hermione, as if making sure she was still there.

** It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Harry pulled the door open and they ran inside. Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went. "Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went. "Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.**

No one interrupted, they were caught up in the story.

** "Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to then did something that was both very brave and very stupid:**

People groaned.

** He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club. Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand — not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!" The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was Hermione who spoke first. "Is it — dead?" "I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out." He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. **

"Ewe!" squealed Lavender.

** "Urgh — troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry's mind. "What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows."Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me."**

People raised their eyebrows.

**"Miss Granger!" Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. **"**I went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them." Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them. **"**Well — in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hung her head. Harry was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets." Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go." They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else. "We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled. "Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's." "Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her." "She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him. They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Pig snout," they said and entered. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates. But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. **

The Ravenclaw from before looked at the Trio in awe. "_That's_ how you three became friends?" Harry, Ron and Hermione simply smiled. Fudge passed the book to Amelia Bones, who looked down at the chapter title. "Nicolas Flamel."

* * *

I'm not sure why half of my line breaks were missing;

but it's fixed now :)

Anyways, thanks for the awesome reviews.

Bye!


	4. Chapter 4

** Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, **  
"The Mirror of Erised?" asked Colin Creevy excitedly, looking at Harry for an answer.  
The Gryffindor sighed. "Erised is desire spelled backwards. It's clever because mirrors show everything backwards. It shows your hearts desire, the thing you want most in the world."  
**and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak **  
"An invisibility cloak?" simpered Umbridge, a greedy look in her eyes. "I'm afraid I'll just have to take that, Mr. Potter."  
No, she couldn't, thought Harry wildly.  
He was saved by Hermione. "Excuse me, Professor Umbridge? You can't take heirlooms unless they are Dark objects. Invisibility cloaks aren't classed as Dark, correct Madame Bones?"  
Amelia nodded, and smiled at the girl. She'd do well in law enforcement.  
Meanwhile, many students were marveling over the fact that Harry had an invisibility cloak, and Harry was politely rejecting the twin's requests to borrow it.  
** stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk.**  
"As it should," said Professor McGonagall.  
** Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light,**  
"You saw your parents in the mirror?" asked Cho softly.  
Harry nodded, trying not to remember seeing them disappear again.**  
while a high voice cackled with laughter. "You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams. **

**Hermione, who came back the day before term ended, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure that he'd read the name somewhere. **  
The Golden Trio shook their heads. It had been _right there!_  
** Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practiced had started again. **  
Harry sighed. He missed Quidditch.  
** Wood was working the team harder than ever, Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training. Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall of their brooms. **

**"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!" George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words. **  
"You can tell us apart!?" exclaimed the twins.  
Harry nodded, smiling evilly.  
Fred and George looked devastated.  
** "****_Snape's_**** refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. **  
"Lovely," said Parvati quietly, wrinkling her nose.  
** "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin." The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too. **

**"It's not ****_my_**** fault," said Wood. "We've just got to play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us." **

**Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch. . . . The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her. **

**"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen-" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible." **  
"Subtle."  
** Speaking quietly so that no one else would overhear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee. "Don't play, " said Hermione at once. "Say you're ill," said Ron. "Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested. **  
Harry snorted. "Because Madame Pomfery wouldn't be able to tell the difference."  
Hermione flushed and hit him over the head.  
"Oy!"  
** "****_Really_**** break your leg," said Ron. **  
"You two are so helpful," said Fred and George.  
** "I can't," said Harry. **  
"I would hope not. Breaking your own leg is unethical," said Lee Jordan in an impression of McGonagall, resulting in laughter.  
** "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all." **

**At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and preformed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. **

**"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron. **

**"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on." **  
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow at the Malfoy heir.  
** "Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. **  
"Yes, go to Professor McGonagall," she muttered.  
** "Report him!" Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbled. **  
Malfoy smirked.  
** "You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier." **

**"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville chocked out. **

**Harry felt in the front pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin." **  
"That was nice," said Luna dreamily.  
"Um, thanks?"**  
Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. "Thanks Harry . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" **

**As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card. "Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever -" He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione. "****_I've found him!_****" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I ****_told_**** you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read is on the train coming here - **  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all face palmed, three loud smacks echoing through the Hall.  
"It was right there!" said the three, ignoring the stares they got.  
** listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, ****_and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'_****!" Hermione jumped to her feet. **  
"Of course she did."  
** She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back their marks for their very first piece of homework.**  
Hermione's cheeks could rival tomatoes as she whacked Harry over the head, again.  
** "Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry and Ron barley had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. **  
"Do you have a book for _everything?_" asked a Gryffindor first year.  
** "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading." "****_Light?_****" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it ! I ****_knew_**** it!" **

**"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. **

**Hermione ignored him. "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, " is the ****_only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone_****!" **  
"The what?" said many students.  
** This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected. "The what?" said Harry and Ron. "Oh, ****_honestly_****, don't you two read? **  
"Obviously not. I mean, why read when we can just ask you?"  
"Ronald!"  
** Look - read that there." She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read: ****_This ancient study of alchemy is concerned wit making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. _**  
"Opera?"  
_**Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and fifty-sixth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight). **_**"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!" **

**"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! ****_._**  
_ No,_ thought Snape as he was getting suspicious stares from the students, _I wasn't after it._  
**_ Anyone_**** would want it." "And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that ****_Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_****," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?" **

**The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. **

**"I'm going to play," he told Ron and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them . . . it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win." **

**"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione. **  
"That was really helpful, Hermione, thanks."  
** As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered if Snape was following him. trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could - yet sometimes he had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. **  
_Close, but not quite._  
**Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and they were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry. **

**"Now, don't forget, it's ****_Locomotor Mortis,_****" Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve. **

**"I ****_know_****," Ron snapped. "Don't nag." Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside. **

**"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much." **

**"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey, - Dumbledore's come to watch!" Harry's heart did a somersault. **

**"****_Dumbledore?_****" he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching. **

**Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too. "I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look - they're off. Ouch!" Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. **  
"Of course it was," sighed Ginny.  
** "Oh, sorry Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you Weasley?" Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents. then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains." **  
By this point, all of Gryffindor, half of Hufflepuff, and about the same number of Ravenclaws where glaring at Malfoy, who fidgeted slightly.  
** Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered. **

**Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville." **

**"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something." Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry. **

**"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -" "Ron," said Hermione suddenly, "Harry -!" "What? Where?" Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet. **

**"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy. **

**Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help. "Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirls of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle. Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand. The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly. **  
The Hall burst into cheers, even though the game happened years ago.  
** "Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front. **

**Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barley lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped - then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face. **

**"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror . . . been keeping busy . . . excellent . . ." Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say he was just a famous name anymore. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur; Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with it's windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Snape. . . . And speaking of Snape . . . A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest.**  
More suspicious looks were thrown at the Potions Master.  
** Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shady clearing stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. ". . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ." **

**"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all." Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. "Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" **

**"B-b-but Severus, I -" **

**"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "I-I don't know what you -" "You know perfectly well what I mean." An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting." **

**"B-b-but I d-d-don't -" **

**"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decide where your loyalties lie." He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quiet still as though petrified. **  
Hermione and all of the other basilisk's victims flinched.  
"Snape was threatening Quirrell?" said a Hufflepuff girl. Her friend shrugged.  
"Apparently."  
** "Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked. **

**"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madame Pomfery says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."**  
"Yeah, _stole._" snorted Ron.  
** "Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, wait 'til you hear this. . . ." He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard. "So we were right, it ****_is_**** the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus' - I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, load of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -" **

**"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm. **

**"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.**  
Amelia cleared her throat. "Weasley, would you mind?"  
"Of course not," he said, reaching for the book.

* * *

Yeah... Um, no excuse really except procrastination... Sorry 'bout that...

Anyways, review! And, if there are any Hetalia fans out there, I have put up a contest! Check it out on my profile, mkay? Mkay. Review!


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